The Mother Who Lived
by Philip S
Summary: When Lord Voldemort tries to kill Harry Potter in his crib, a mother's sacrifice protects her infant son and destroys the Dark Lord. And then Lilly Potter, struck down by the Killing Curse, wakes up and wonders why she isn't dead.
1. Two Survivors

The Mother Who Lived

By Philip S.

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to Ms. Rowling, not me.

Author's Note: Just an idea I had the other day, no concrete plans to actually write more at this moment. Let me know what you think and how it might continue from here.

* * *

Lady Lillian Potter, born Lilly Evans, opened her eyes and looked around with a curious sense of detachment. The last thing she had seen was the bright green flash of the killing curse coming directly towards her. That should have been it. She should be quite dead. No one survived the killing curse, after all. Well, if everything had worked according to plan there should have been one person to survive it, her son. She had labored long and hard on this ritual, after all, just in case everything else failed. But she herself should be quite dead.

She was still in her son's room and lying on the floor where she had presumably fallen after being hit by the killing curse. Right in front of her was an empty set of robes, still smoking, and a fallen wand. Voldemort's wand, she recognized it. No sign of the Dark Lord, though. So... it had worked? But again, why was she…?

Finally her hearing started working again and the wail of her son filled the room. Her limbs were sluggish, barely obeying her commands, but she managed to rise to her feet and looked into the crib. There was Harry and he was alive. Thank Merlin, he was alive. She didn't quite trust her strength enough to pick him up, but her hands cradled his face and tears of relief ran down her face. It had worked. He was alive and Voldemort was... well, gone, at least. That was all that mattered for the moment.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, her son calming down now that his mother was moving again. "My beautiful son, Harry!"

She checked him over the best she could at the moment, but except for a small, bleeding cut on his forehead he seemed to be fine.

A commotion from downstairs snapped her out of her relief. Someone was coming. James? No, she reminded herself even as grief stabbed her in the heart like a shard of ice. The only way Voldemort would have made it up here was over her husband's dead body. He would never have surrendered or quit, she was certain. He was dead. Which meant someone else was coming.

Her eyes found her wand lying on the floor where it had fallen earlier and she quickly picked it up. Even as she did, her eyes found Voldemort's wand again, still lying beside his robes. Feeling a surge of anger, she raised her foot and brought her heel down hard on the wooden instrument of her husband's murder, shattering it. It was a bit petty, maybe, but it felt good.

A moment later a dark shape appeared in the door of her room and Lilly almost fired off a curse out of reflex, but at the very last moment she recognized the man standing before her. It stayed her hand… just.

"Severus?" she said, confusion warring with anger.

Severus Snape, her childhood friend – former friend, she reminded herself – stood before her, looking pale and looking at her with wide, wild eyes.

"Lilly? Oh, Lilly, thank Merlin! You're alive! He promised me, but I wasn't sure he..."

His voice trailed off as he took in the rest of the room, seeing Harry behind her, the empty robes at her feet, the shattered wand under her foot.

"Lilly, what happened here? I..."

Lilly Potter was not considered the brightest witch of her generation for nothing. Despite everything that had happened tonight, despite the grief clutching her heart for the death of her husband, her mind would never stop working. Severus was here, despite the house being under the Fidelius charm, meaning the Secret Keeper – Peter – had told him. She knew he had thrown his lot in with the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had come after Harry, which meant he had learned of the prophecy. The details clicked together in her mind, together with his words, his relief at finding her alive, his obvious confusion upon seeing Harry and Voldemort's empty robes, leaving only one conclusion.

"You did this," she hissed at him, the tip of her wand glowing as her magic reacted to the rage gripping every fiber of her being.

"Lilly, no, I... I tried to..." he began.

"Tried what?" she cut him off, more furious than she had ever been in her life. "What did you try, Severus? What concession did you try and weasel out of your precious Dark Lord in return for giving him James and Harry?"

His mouth opened and closed, his eyes were on her, and she knew him long enough to understand even without him saying anything.

"What did you think would happen, Severus?" she asked. "Voldemort would kill James and Harry, leave me alive, and I would come crying to you, throw myself in your arms? Is that what you thought would happen?"

"Lilly, I never wanted… I only ever… I…"

Lilly's rage and grief finally unloaded itself and an overpowered stunning spell threw Severus right across the corridor and through the opposite door, leaving him slumped against the cracked wall of the far room, thoroughly unconscious. Lilly lowered her wand, shaking. She had been so close to casting the Cruciatus instead.

Once her strength had recovered a bit, she took her son in her arms and slowly walked down the stairs into the house's living room. She had fully expected to find what she did, but it still nearly caused her to collapse. Making sure to hold her son so he wouldn't see his father lying dead on the floor, she knelt besides James and tenderly touched her fingers to his face, closing his unseeing eyes.

"Goodbye James," she whispered, choking. "I promise we'll see each other again. When the time comes, I'll find you!"

The door slammed open and Lilly whirled around, her wand at the ready, but she relaxed when she saw the man storming into the house. Sirius Black looked around wildly, taking in the devastated living room, before his eyes finally settled on her and Harry.

"Lilly? Harry? What happened? Where is…," she saw the exact moment his eyes found James, his brother in all but blood. "Oh no, James. Is he…?"

Lilly couldn't find the words, so she just nodded.

"Oh Merlin, Lilly! I am so sorry. How…? Peter! He must have…! Oh, that dirty rat, I will…"

"NO!" she screamed at him, seeing the rage building on his face and the way his body turned toward the door. He was about to run off, she realized. He would chase after Peter, treacherous Peter, and leave her here, alone, with the body of her husband.

"Don't you dare leave me, Sirius Black!" she yelled at him, her voice hoarse and desperate.

"But… Peter… I need to…"

"Peter can wait!" she cut him off. "He can wait! You can't... don't… don't you dare, Sirius! I… I need…"

A moment later Sirius was beside her, taking her into his arms, and she could no longer hold back the tears. Harry squirmed in her arms, upset, but she simply couldn't stop. And from the way he was shaking, Sirius was crying as well. Together they grieved over the friend and husband they had lost.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. At some point the Aurors, Dumbledore, Hagrid, and several other people arrived, Lilly couldn't recall in what order. Not that it mattered. She simply clutched her son to her heart and Sirius stayed at her side, never letting go of her.

She was briefly aware of the Aurors carrying a still unconscious Severus down the stairs, mostly because she felt Sirius tense beside her at the sight of the young man he had despised since their earliest school days. Didn't matter. She gave Dumbledore a brief rundown of what had happened, but she left out several things.

Even as she grieved, her mind was still working furiously, trying to figure out what had happened here tonight. Fearing that Voldemort would find them, would go after Harry, she had made her backup plan. Not even James had known about it, for she knew his somewhat narrow views on what magic was light and what was dark. The ritual she had performed had been a blood rite, borderline dark, and very dangerous. She hadn't cared, though. Everything to make sure her son would survive.

And he had. The rite had worked, or so she assumed. She didn't know exactly what had happened between her being hit by the killing curse and waking up again... something she still didn't understand. According to everything she had read and learned, the rite required a sacrifice, her sacrifice, in order to protect Harry. Which was why she had basically begged Voldemort to kill her, because if he had simply stunned her or brushed her aside, Harry would have been defenseless.

But he had killed her. And whatever he had then tried to do to Harry had obviously backfired and killed him. Or had it? The killing curse didn't disintegrate bodies, it simply ripped the life from them. Something else had happened, she didn't know what. And whatever it was, it had apparently somehow revived her in the process.

She needed to research this. She needed to figure out why she and her son were still alive and she also needed to figure out whether Voldemort was really, truly dead or still lurking somewhere, a danger to Harry still.

Well, she was the brightest witch of her generation, everyone kept saying. Time for her to validate that title.

* * *

The Blood War effectively ended that night. Within hours the news of the Dark Lord's defeat spread across Wizarding Britain like wildfire. The very next morning the Daily Prophet's headline informed everyone who somehow hadn't heard yet.

 _DARK LORD DEFEATED! LADY LILLIAN POTTER SAVES WIZARDING BRITAIN!_

The blow to the Death Eaters and everyone who supported or at least shared their ideology of blood purity could not have been harsher. Their lord, supposedly the most powerful wizard ever, defeated by a muggleborn witch, a mudblood, of all people. How could that possibly be true? Many of them wanted to believe it a lie, but the continued absence of their lord, not to mention a very good close-up picture of his empty robes and shattered wand lying on the floor of the Potter house, made that very difficult.

And the blows kept coming. Lady Potter was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, the first time a muggleborn had received this honor. She took her late husband's place in the Wizengamot, the wizarding governing body, even as Sirius Black, decried as blood traitor by many of the old families, took the place of his late mother as head of the Black family.

When the time came for the captured and suspected Death Eaters to be put on trial, her mere presence in the court chamber served to shatter Lucius Malfoy's calm demeanor. His claim to have been under the Imperius Curse the entire time gained little credence when he started ranting about the filthy mudblood sullying the hallowed chamber with her presence and the audacity of her claiming to have killed Lord Voldemort.

Of course Lady Potter had never made any such claim. She told the Aurors the bare minimum and nothing at all to the press. The story pretty much wrote itself and her silence on the matter was ascribed to her grief over her dead husband. She remained tight-lipped about the actual events of that night, even to her closest friends and allies. She knew Albus Dumbledore at the very least suspected that there was more than she was telling, the man was far too smart for his own good. But until she knew exactly what had happened, she would not tell anyone about the blood rite she had performed, both for fear that it might lead people to label her as a dark witch herself as well as for what it might mean for Harry, who retained a curious, lightning-shaped scar from the events of that night.

And as the world moved on, she researched. For she was Lilly Potter, brightest witch of her generation, and she would find out what had happened that night, what had happened to Voldemort, and why she was still alive. Nothing would stop her. Nothing!

THE END (for now)


	2. Second Opinion

**The Mother Who Lived**

Chapter 2: Second Opinion

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to Ms. Rowling, not me.

 _Author's Note: Still making this up as I go along, no specific overarching plot in mind. Just figuring out how key events would change given Lilly's survival._

* * *

Lady Lilly Potter walked into the office of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and couldn't suppress a wave of nostalgia overcoming her. The castle hadn't changed at all since her school days and neither had the office except for some small details here and there. How often had she been here during her school years? Quite a few times, mostly due to her positions as prefect and later head girl. Oh, and also because of James and his friends getting in trouble, with her being along for the ride either because she had reported them or – during their final years – because she had been involved in... other ways.

"It is good to see you, Lilly," Albus Dumbledore greeted her, rising from his chair.

"Thank you, Professor. It is good to see you as well."

He gave her a look. "Now, Lilly, you are a grown woman and I haven't been your professor in quite some time. Don't you think it is time you called me Albus?"

She smiled at him, ducking her head a bit. "I... will try. It might take some getting used to… Albus."

He motioned her towards a group of comfortable chairs tucked away on the far side of the office. She had been about to head towards the chair in front of his big desk, but as he had said, she was no longer a student here. Yeah, this would definitely take some getting used to.

A house elf popped in to deliver a tray with tea and scones and Dumbledore prepared two cups for them. Sitting back in the chair, taking a sip from the hot tea, Lilly forced herself to relax a bit. She had fretted over her decision to come here for quite some time, but she had decided on this course of action and would see it through. Gryffindor courage, after all, and all that.

"How are you, my dear?" Albus asked, looking at her over the edge of his spectacles.

She knew that a simple "fine" would not be believed, the man was far too perceptive for so simple a lie. For all that more than a year had passed since that fateful night, she was nowhere even close to being "fine".

"Trying to keep busy, mostly," she said, taking another sip. "Harry needs a lot of my attention, plus the Potter family matters, the Wizengamot, and... other things. I... I actually manage a few hours of uninterrupted sleep now and then."

Albus nodded, not needing any words to convey his sympathy and compassion.

"And how is Sirius doing?" he asked next. "I hear you and he are spending a lot of time together."

She snorted, being well aware of the numerous rumors floating around about the two of them. She hadn't commented on any of them, naturally, and neither had Sirius. Most people didn't seem capable of understanding the kind of deep bond created by friendship and shared loss. Come to think of it, that was probably a good thing. She wouldn't wish for anyone to experience this kind of loss for themselves.

"Sirius is... Sirius, I guess. In some ways he has changed a lot, in others he is exactly the same. He still doesn't like being head of the Black Family, what little there is left of it, but he has risen to the occasion. I'm very proud of him."

The Blacks had been one of the darkest families in the history of Britain and while only some family members had actively supported Voldemort during the Blood War, the House had a long history of atrocities and dark magic. Sirius had his work cut out for him trying to reform his House and clear his family name of its ancestral taint.

"As am I," Dumbledore agreed. "I was also happy to see that he and Narcissa seem to be on speaking terms again."

Narcissa Malfory, nee Black, was Sirius' cousin and with Sirius running away from home and living with the Potters while Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy, the rift between the two had truly been wide.

"I think with her husband being in Azkaban for life and a large portion of the Malfoy family fortune having been confiscated to compensate the families that suffered during the war at his hands, she has... let us say, seen the benefit of reconciling with her birth family. And I think Sirius is trying to ensure that her son Draco doesn't turn out like his dad."

They chatted for another few minutes, mostly about common acquaintances and what they had been up to since the war's end. When their cups were empty and the conversation died down, Lilly gathered her Gryffindor courage and decided to come to the point.

"I am here because I need your help, Pro... Albus."

The old wizard nodded, inviting her to speak.

"For the last year I've... researched, analyzed, and tried to approach the... issue from every angle I could imagine. I... I think I have come to an... explanation, a solution, but a lot of it is guess work and... well, I want... need a second opinion, really. Someone to check my findings. And, at the risk of sounding arrogant, there aren't really all that many witches or wizards in Britain I trust to even understand my work, much less to verify it."

"I will take your approaching me as a compliment then," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly.

"Before I tell you, though... I... I need an oath from you, Albus."

A slight widening of his eyes was the only outward sign of surprise.

"Not that I don't trust you," she was quick to say, "but... this is really, really important and... dear to me. I... I need your oath that everything I tell you today will remain between the two of us, no matter what. Can you... will you do that, Albus?"

The headmaster looked at her for a few moments. Despite being somewhat ashamed for her lack of trust, Lilly had her Occlumency shields in place, just in case. There was no sign of a Legilimancy probe, though. Finally Dumbledore nodded and took out his wand.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear upon my magic that I will never tell anyone else about anything Lady Lillian Potter tells me here today, so mote it be!"

She exhaled with relief as his magic swirled around him, sealing the oath. Taking her own wand from her sleeve, she quickly conjured a number of pin boards, setting them up in the office. The modern office appliances looked out of place here, but she was a Muggleborn, after all. Opening her bag, she unshrunk numerous rolls of parchment and affixed them to the pin boards. The parchments were covered top to bottom in Arithmantic equations.

"It's about what happened Halloween night," she explained. "Everything I did and what I think happened as a result of it."

Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked to the pin boards, his eyes taking in the complex equations at a rate few other wizards in the world could have matched. She waited as he took everything in, noting the subtle clues when he stiffened at one particular passage, uttered a soft "of course" at another, and made a few short notes on a piece of parchment of his own. She folded her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting, feeling like she was back in the NEWT exams, waiting to know whether she flunked.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably closer to ten minutes, he sat back down beside her, looking exhausted. Her stomach was filled with butterflies as she awaited his response.

"I must say, Lilly, while I always considered you one of my most brilliant students, I believe even I somewhat underestimated you." He smiled at her.

Lilly closed her eyes, relieved that there seemed to be no condemnation in his gaze.

"Thank you, Professor…"

"Albus," he reminded her.

"Albus, sorry. I... I was a bit worried about your reaction, considering..."

"That you used a blood rite?" he asked. As she nodded, he continued "I know that quite a few wizards and witches regard the use of blood magic as dark, but personally I have always believed, firmly believed, that magic is first and foremost about intent. And one could hardly imagine an intent more pure than wanting to protect one's loved ones."

She smiled gratefully at him, her eyes filling with tears.

"So then... do you... what do you think?" she simply asked, gesturing at her findings.

"The ritual you created is a truly extraordinary feat of magic, Lilly, and I share your belief that it worked exactly as intended. It created a... channel, for lack of a better word... between you and Harry so that upon your... your death, your willing sacrifice, your life force would not dissipate into the ether, but rather be channeled into him, creating a shield around him, protecting him."

She nodded, noting that this was the point where had stiffened slightly earlier, seeing that she had willingly sacrificed her life for her son. The fact that she had actually died that night, struck down by the Killing Curse, was one detail she had not shared with anyone before today.

"And I also believe that you are correct," he continued, "that this channel remained open even after your life force had... finished transferring, so to speak. It would probably have dissipated in another few seconds, but..."

"Voldemort didn't wait a few seconds," she finished.

"Yes," he agreed. "I never really looked at it from this angle before, but from your equations it becomes obvious, of course. The Aveda Kedavra curse is, at its most basic level, a form of life force transference as well. It removes the life force from its victim. Everything is energy and energy can neither be created nor destroyed."

Lilly nodded, that had been her conclusion exactly. Magic, for all its mysteries, still had to obey the most fundamental laws of the universe.

"I can understand that you would call your findings 'guess work', seeing as this is hardly something one can easily recreate under laboratory conditions. A truly unique set of circumstances and very fortunate timing, all things considered."

Yes, she snorted. Timing and circumstances. That had been the key to it all, actually. Had Voldemort waited a few more seconds in his attempt to kill Harry, had he used a different means than the Aveda Kedavra curse... well, her ritual would still have protected Harry, but the rest?

"All in all, I can find no fault in your conclusion, Lilly," Dumbledore finally said. "While probably impossible to prove academically, I firmly believe you are quite correct."

Closing her eyes, Lilly tried to feel satisfied. For over a year she had been obsessed with figuring out what had happened that night, how she could possibly have survived. The answer, as Dumbledore had agreed, was in the curse Voldemort had decided to use on Harry. The Aveda Kedavra curse removed the life force from a living being. Normally that energy would then simply dissipate, but in this very special case there was still an active working of magic in the immediate vicinity, one specifically designed to capture an escaping life force and channel it.

It was almost funny that her own... well, oversight wasn't the right word… had been the cause of all this. She had simply never considered the need to refine her ritual to the point that the life force transference was to be strictly one way. The channel created between her and Harry was to transfer her life force to him, period. The situation that a second life force would enter the equation had never occurred to her.

Voldemort's curse had bounced back on him, ripping his life force from his body. The channel between her and Harry had still been active, even if only just. Voldemort had been standing closer to Harry than to her. Thus as his life force fled his body, the energy entered the channel on Harry's end, so to speak, and the channel then did exactly what it had been designed to do: it channeled the life force along its length… to her.

The conclusion that it was Voldemort's own life force that had revived her made her feel tainted and dirty to the extreme, but it didn't really matter. Energy was energy, there was nothing more to it than that.

"Truly extraordinary," Dumbledore mused. "So many things had to fall into place in exactly the right way for this to happen... one would be very hard pressed not to suspect some sort of providence at work here."

Lilly frowned. "Are you thinking of the prophecy?"

That damnable prophecy! The thing that had caused Voldemort to be after Harry in the first place, that had forced them to go into hiding. Lilly had never believed in it, but it hadn't really mattered, seeing as Voldemort obviously had. Which actually made it self-fulfilling, she mused.

"Possibly," Dumbledore shrugged. "After all, it did say that the Dark Lord would be vanquished through a power he knew not. And what we have here... a ritual you created almost from scratch, powered by your love for your son, and a unique chain of circumstances impossible to predict nor repeat... all resulting in a vanquished Dark Lord."

Lilly shook her head. "If anything, Voldemort engineered his own downfall. Had he not gone after Harry in the first place... but I guess one could say the prophecy is now fulfilled, isn't it? Fate does not even need to be a factor."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think you are right, Lilly. The prophecy became real because Voldemort believed it to be real. And it was fulfilled through his actions and your preparations. I will check with the Unspeakables tomorrow, but I believe the prophecy orb in the Department of Mysteries will have extinguished itself."

Lilly hoped it had. This prophecy had done so much damage to her family. It had taken James from her, had almost killed Harry, would have killed her if not for a truly incredibly chain of events. She never wanted anything to do with prophecies again.

For a moment the two magicals simply sat together in silence, contemplating. Then Lilly looked up at her former teacher.

"That still leaves two mysteries to ponder, doesn't it?" she said.

"Indeed. Your extraordinary work here explains your survival but does not offer any explanation as for why Voldemort's body disintegrated. If anything, he should simply have dropped dead, nothing more. I would really like to decisively state that he is dead, but..."

"Yeah, but!" she agreed. "And then there is Harry's scar."

During that fateful night she had seen the cut on her son's forehead, but believed it to be little more than a normal wound, probably resulting from a splinter of wood as Voldemort had blown the door to Harry's room to bits. But while it had stopped bleeding, it would not totally heal. It resisted all healing magic and while all her numerous diagnostic spells had come up empty, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something... wrong about it.

"I will continue researching these two mysteries," Dumbledore promised her, "and I have no doubt you will as well. Alas, I fear for the moment we have done all we can do. We will simply have to keep a close watch over Harry and remain ever vigilant."

While not completely satisfactory, she figured it was all they could do for now. She felt... lighter, she guessed. She had come to her conclusions weeks ago, actually, but for all her confidence in her own abilities, it was only now that she allowed herself to accept it. Understanding what had happened to her and Harry that night didn't make the loss of James any easier to bear, but... yeah, acceptance was probably the most fitting word.

"On an entirely different matter," Dumbledore suddenly said, "I was hoping to get your opinion on something else."

"Yes?"

He took a piece of parchment from his desk, handing it to her. "This is the first draft of a new law I hope to introduce into the Wizengamot early next year. It concerns our approach to introducing Muggleborns to our world. I have long believed that approaching them for the first time when their Hogwarts letters arrive leaves them at a big disadvantage compared to children who have grown up in the magical world, so I was thinking..."

Thoughts of blood rituals, Dark Lords, lost family, and miraculous resurrections were left behind as arguably the two smartest magicals alive today pondered ways to improve their world for future generations.

END (Chapter 2)


	3. Absent Friends

**The Mother Who Lived**  
 **Chapter 3: Absent Friends**

Lilly Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin did not celebrate on Halloween. Far too many bad memories, memories of loss, of betrayal, of pain. As the rest of the country celebrated both the traditional Samhain, as well as the second anniversary of the downfall of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the three friends sat together in a dark room in 12 Grimauld Place. Harry had long since been put to bed upstairs, numerous charms around his crib ensuring that he would not be disturbed by the three adults downstairs, yet allowing them to hear him should he wake. Which left the three friends alone and undisturbed with copious amounts of alcohol raided from the Black family's extensive stocks.

Now it had to be said that Sirius Black had a long relationship with all sorts of alcoholic beverages. He was not a drunk, mind you, but he had liked to party a lot in his youth and had also consumed lots of alcohol these past two years, though for different reasons. All this had allowed him to build up quite the tolerance for drinking. Remus Lupin, while not the kind of party person Sirius had been, was cursed with lycanthropy which, while coming with numerous disadvantages, did give him a metabolism that burned through alcohol at an accelerated rate, making it very, very hard for him to get drunk.

Lilly Potter, on the other hand, was a distinct lightweight when it came to alcohol.

"I'm telling you, Sirius, there is some sort of charm here that tilts the floor," she said, her words slightly slurred. "It's not a big tilt, just a little tilt, but enough to throw me off. I don't know how you two can walk straight with the floor like that!"

Remus smiled, nursing a glass of the finest Fire Whiskey. He had been poor all through childhood and early adulthood, mostly due to his condition and the prejudice prevailing in Britain about it, but being hired as House Black's majordomo (meaning it was his job to take care of all the things Sirius didn't want to do or might result in him killing someone for extensive annoying) had taken care of that. Still, this was the kind of alcohol you had to be filthy rich to even consider buying. The fact that most Blacks would twist in their graves upon learning that a werewolf and a muggleborn were drinking it on their dime... well, that just made it taste all the sweeter.

"Must be a very selective charm then," he replied, smiling. "Floor seems perfectly even to me."

"I wouldn't put it past Kreacher," Sirius added, grinning, "but I think in this case I must defend his innocence."

The Black house elf Kreacher had been in the family for quite some time and shared a lot of the Black's traditional views regarding blood purity. The first time Lilly had visited, he had started grumbling about filthy mudbloods and how disappointed his dear departed mistress would have been. Lilly had overheard. The next time she came to visit, Kreacher was the perfect picture of politeness. The stark fear on his face only showed when Lilly wasn't looking. Sirius wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it, but he thought the portrait of his mother had given Lilly a somewhat approving glance that day. It was a disturbing thought.

"Didn't you invent some kind of jinx for that once?" Sirius asked Remus. "I seem to remember back in school there was something about the floor of Slughorn's office..."

"No, that was James, actually," Remus said. "He was angry with Slughorn for almost flunking him in Potions. Slughorn took it in stride, I think, which only made him angrier."

"Ah, good times," Sirius mused. "Haven't gotten a good prank in in ages. Not since…" His voice trailed off.

"You can talk about it, you know?" Lilly remarked, inspecting another glass of whiskey. "I'm not made of glass. Not like I haven't thought of that night every day for the last two years."

The two men looked at each other, then Sirius raised his glass.

"To James Potter then. Finest bloke a prankster could have as his partner! Great guy!"

Remus raised his glass as well. "Yep, great guy! How he made Head Boy I will never know since he never did his homework if he could help it, but he did it. Great guy!"

"Oh yes," Lilly chimed in, raising her own half-drained glass. "A great guy." She sighed. "And such a great lay!"

Remus shook his head, trying to dispel the image. "I really didn't need to know that, Lils!"

"Great kisser, too," she continued, oblivious. "Not sure how he managed to drag me into that broom closet the first time, but Merlin, could that boy snog!"

Remus winced again, looking over at Sirius. Then he frowned, wondering whether the look on the other man's face meant what he thought it meant.

It wasn't long afterwards that Lilly passed out, predictably. Sirius had Kreacher bring a blanket and gently covered her where she had collapsed on the couch, snoring along. Motioning at Remus, the two men took their glasses and the opened bottle, quietly leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, the two men drank in silence for a minute, before Remus spoke up.

"So what was that look earlier?" he asked.

"Look? What look?"

"When Lilly was telling us – unfortunately – about the skills of one James Potter, Padfoot!"

"There was no look," Sirius said, throwing back the rest of his drink. "You're imagining things, Moony!"

"Good to know," Remus replied nonchalantly. "Because to me it looked like the look you used to get whenever what passes for your conscience interfered with one of your crazier ideas."

Sirius just gave him a blank look, clearly confused.

"Padfoot," Remus sighed. "It was never much of a secret that you fancied Lilly as well. But you loved James like a brother and so you never acted on that. But James isn't here anymore. Lilly is."

"Shut up, Moony," Sirius said, slamming his glass down. "You've been drinking too much."

Remus shrugged. "Quite possibly."

They lapsed back into silence.

"She isn't ready," Sirius mumbled a few minutes later. "James is still here. He might be gone for us, but not for her. Not really."

Remus looked at his friend and didn't know what he could say. Just give it time? She'll come around? James would understand? It all sounded wrong in his head. So all he could do was scoot over and put his hand on his friend's shoulder, even as he poured both of them another shot of whiskey. It was all he could think of right now.

For the moment it seemed to be enough. The future would take care of itself.

* * *

PETER PETTIGREW STILL AT LARGE

Two years have passed since the defeat of the Dark Lord and Wizarding Britain's most wanted man, the infamous arch traitor Peter Pettigrew, remains at large. The manhunt is ongoing, but the Department of Magical Law Enforcement reminds the public of the traitor's Animagus abilities and the difficulties of tracking down a man who can transform into a rat at will.

A lot of political pressure is on the DMLE to continue in their manhunt, originating mainly from Lord Sirius Black, childhood friend of Pettigrew, and directly affected by his infamous betrayal of the Potters, to whom he was closer than to his own family (for rumors regarding Lord Black's romantic pursuit of Lady Potter, see page 7). While refusing to give an interview to the Daily Prophet regarding Pettigrew's continued freedom, Lord Black was overheard outside the Wizengamot chamber saying the following:

"That dirty rat better pray to Merlin the Aurors find him before I do!"

A sizeable reward of 10,000 Gallons remains in place for any and all information that will aid in the apprehension of Peter Pettigrew. If you have any information, please send it by owl directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, marked urgent.

* * *

Sirius Black exited the floo and walked down the familiar corridor of Potter Manor towards the office of the Head of House. He smiled slightly, still remembering when he had often been here as a boy. Old man Carlus Potter had spent what had seemed like every waking hour in that office (or maybe he had just liked to give that impression). James, on the other hand, had avoided it like plague, even after becoming Head of House. He had been convinced that there was some sort of magical trap incorporated into that room that would bury him in paperwork the moment he sat down behind that big desk.

Entering the office, he figured that James might have been right about that, seeing the enormous piles arranged on its smooth surface, the crown of Lilly's hair just visible above it.

"Is there some sort of customary two-year waiting period I was unaware of?" Lilly asked, clearly frustrated.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked in return, confused. Waiting period?

"I am talking about these things here," she gestured towards a particularly large pile. "They started arriving a few weeks ago and seem to multiply whenever I am not looking. I've been thinking of barring owls from the manor permanently."

"What are they?" he asked, walking closer.

"Marriage proposals," she hissed.

Sirius could not stop the bark of laughter from escaping. "Oh, what do you know? Looks like every lord and would-be lord in all of Britain is looking to claim Britain's finest piece of..."

A stinging hex prevented him from finishing the sentence, but did not stifle his laughter.

"It's not funny, Sirius," Lilly complained, putting her wand back down. "I... I'm not..."

Sirius stopped laughing and came over to her side of the desk, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know, Lilly. I know."

"I'm not ready to move on," she said, tears in her eyes. "I'm not sure I'll ever be. I know that James... he would probably want me to..."

"Are you kidding, Lils?" Sirius asked, smiling. "James wanting you to be with another bloke? Do you know how crazy he went back in Hogwarts when Remus and I managed to convince him that Josh McDougal had caught your eye? We had to physically restrain him from going after the poor guy."

Success, he mentally shouted, seeing the small smile on her lips. "I think I remember that week. He sent me flowers every day."

Sirius gently moved her head so she would look him in the eye. "What I'm trying to say, Lils, is that it's your call. Not James', not mine, certainly not some etiquette book's. If you're ready to let another bloke into your life, then do so. If not, take whatever time you need. You're Lilly Potter, scariest witch on Earth. No one can make you do anything you don't want to."

"I'm not scary," she grumbled, but there was no anger in her voice.

"Just keep telling yourself that, dear," he replied, patting her head. A moment later he ran laughing from the room, dodging hexes. Yes, Lilly wasn't ready. She wasn't over James' death, not by a long shot. She needed more time and he fully intended to make sure she got it.

Sirius Black could be a very patient man if he needed to be.

* * *

"Boys can be so stupid sometimes, you know?" Lilly said to her friend, sighing. "He honestly thinks I'm still so caught up in my grief that I haven't noticed the way he sometimes looks at me."

She sighed, settling back into her chair. "It's not like we're still in school. I needed quite a few years to figure out back then that James' constant teasing and bugging was a teenager's way of expressing his interest in me. And even when I did notice his feelings, I still needed time to figure out my own. But we were teens back then, of course we were confused and messed up all the time."

Her friend just smiled at her.

"But I'm not a teenage girl anymore and Sirius is... well, at least age-wise he's a man. There are so many days when he still behaves exactly like he did back in Hogwarts, but being forced to take on the mantle of Lord Black has actually made him grow up some. He's a good guy, he really is."

She closed her eyes, massaging her temples. "Which is why he hasn't said anything, of course. He and James, they were closer than any brothers. He probably figures he's betraying James' memory or something."

Looking up, she met her friend's gaze. "I'm not even sure I want him to say anything. I mean… yeah, I'm not blind. Sirius is hot, there is no denying that. Girls have been falling all over him since the day he hit puberty. And it's not like he's playing the idiot with me, we know each other too well for that."

Lilly took a sip of tea from the cup in front her. "Which is part of the problem, of course. We've been friends for ages. I'm not sure how I would have survived these last two years without his support. To risk all that..."

Sighing again, she put her cup down. "It's academic for now, anyway. I wasn't kidding when I told him I wasn't ready for someone... anyone new. It wouldn't be fair to him or me right now. I'll just... have to see what happens, I guess."

Rising, she leaned forward and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for listening, Alice. I'll come visit again next week. I'll bring Harry along, he wants to meet his auntie. And maybe I can convince Augusta to let me bring Neville, too."

Lilly left the Long-Term Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo's Hospital behind where her good friends Alice and Frank Longbottom had been staying ever since the war ended. The healers kept telling her that Alice couldn't understand a word she was saying, but Lilly was convinced that her friend was still in there somewhere. So she would keep visiting and she would keep talking.

Maybe someday her lost friend would answer and come back to her.

END (Chapter 3)


	4. Muggleborn Girl

**The Mother Who Lived**  
 **Chapter 4: Muggleborn Girl**

Author's Note: I am still making this up as I go along with no clear plot in mind except for imagining how things might have gone different had Lilly Potter lived. Hope you keep enjoying the ride.

* * *

Lilly Potter didn't have a lot of days off. Being a Head of House and sitting member of the Wizengamot took up a lot of her time, not to mention being a single mother. Not that Harry was lacking in (honorary) aunts and uncles who loved to take care of him now and then, but she was still his mother and had a very, very hard time leaving him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. Sure, intellectually she knew that Harry still enjoyed the protections of her life shield, which was maintained and strengthened by their bond of blood and love. Didn't make a difference in how she felt. So yes, she didn't have a lot of free time.

Today, though, was one of her rare days off. Harry was spending the day at Longbottom Manor, playing with his god-brother Neville, supervised by Augusta Longbottom. To most people the matriarch of the Longbottom family seemed stern and unfeeling, but Lilly could easily see the deep-seated pain that was the root of the woman's apparent aloofness. They had bonded over shared loss and Augusta thawed every time she saw Harry and Neville happily playing together. It was good for her and Harry enjoyed spending time with Neville, too.

So for the first time in at least a year Lilly found herself with an entire day free and was somewhat at a loss as to what to do now. The thought of looking up Sirius briefly flashed through her mind before being dismissed. Some more research into Harry's scar? No, she was at a point where there simply was nothing further to research in the materials she had available. Albust was looking for more esoteric and rare texts regarding long-term curse effects and would let her know the moment he found something. Keeping on that would be nothing more than busy-work right now.

She was still debating what to do with herself when the floo burst to life and the face of Minerva McGonnagal appeared in the flames.

"Hello Lilly!"

"Hello Minerva. How are you doing?"

"Quite well, thank you. I was wondering whether you would mind if I came over for a cup of tea? There is something I was hoping to talk to you about."

A moment later her former teacher and Head of Gryffindor House entered Potter Manor and the two women sat down for tea in the living room. Lilly had found it much easier to refer to Minerva by her first name and accept the woman as a friend than she had with Albus Dumbledore. Maybe it was a female thing? Having worked together in the Order during the war? Or maybe it was just that Minerva was far, far closer to her in age than the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Minerva?"

The older woman sipped her tea before answering. "It's about that new law you helped Albus push through last year, Lilly. The one about approaching muggleborn students and their families earlier than we did previously."

Lilly nodded, remembering. Albust had shown her the drafts for that law pretty early to get her input and she thought it a terrific idea. She still remembered how difficult an adjustment it had been for her back then and she had had the benefit (a strange word to use in retrospect) of meeting Severus Snape, who told her about magic early. For most Muggleborns the transition was extremely jarring, learning about magic and heading off to a magical boarding school all within the span of a few months.

The new law fixed that, specifying that the families of muggleborn magicals should be approached no later than the third time a burst of accidental magic had been detected from their homes. They would then be assigned a mentor, of sorts, who would give the parents their first brief tour of the magical world, be available for questions, and would, barring objections from the parents, later serve as the child's magical guardian for matters that muggle parents simply had too hard a time with. The law was still so new the paint was still wet and no more than a handful of families had been approached early yet. There would probably still be a few kinks to be worked out the coming years.

"I hope it's not giving you too many problems with the more traditional families," Lilly remarked, remembering quite a few Wizengamot members complaining about increasing muggle influence in their lives.

"No more than expected, no. As a matter of fact I was visiting a muggle family just two days ago after their daughter had her third burst of accidental magic. Nothing big, but enough to make them notice. She's not even four yet."

Lilly certainly didn't envy Minerva her duties of always being the first to approach muggle families about their magical children. People never enjoyed having their entire world-view turned on its head and all too often they blamed it on the messenger.

"I hope they took it well," she said.

"Reasonably," Minerva shrugged. "Anyway, next week they will go on their first outing to Diagon Alley to get their first taste of the magical world. And I wanted to ask you if you would accompany them."

Lilly's eyebrows rose. "Me? Minerva, I know the whole mentor thing in the new law was kind of my idea in the first place, but I am not sure I have the time to..."

"I'm not asking you to become the new magical's mentor, Lilly. Not yet anyway. I am just asking you to accompany them for the day, that's all."

Lilly narrowed her eyes at the older witch. "Why me specifically, Minerva?"

Minerva smiled. "Let's just say that the Granger's little girl very much reminds me of another muggleborn student I used to know."

* * *

Fifteen minutes into the trip she had grudgingly agreed to Lilly had to admit that Minerva might have had a point. While the adult Grangers - a very nice, well-spoken couple of doctors Lilly could easily see herself become friends with - were more or less in shock at the sights of Diagon Alley and just walked on in a daze, the girl, Hermione, was practically bouncing with excitement. She wasn't even four yet, but apparently she was already quite proficient at reading and soaked up knowledge like a sponge. And she had questions. So many questions. And each answer Lilly gave her just led to a dozen more questions.

Lilly somewhat remembered being like that, though she was sure that she couldn't possibly have been quite that bad. No way.

"Thank you again for doing this for us, Lady Potter," Emma Granger said, walking next to her.

"I told you before, it's Lilly. Long before I became any sort of Lady I was a muggleborn magical much like your daughter here. It's my pleasure to show her and you around."

"Nevertheless," Emma repeated. "Out of curiosity, Professor McGonnagal told us this is something really new, introducing the family of witches not born into the magical world this early. How was it for you?"

Lilly shrugged. "It wasn't as jarring for me as it was for others. I was only a few years older than your daughter when I met another magical child, a half-blood who knew quite a bit more about the magical world than I did. It wasn't a complete picture, mind you, but I was at least a little prepared."

Looking at the bouncing girl in front of them, Lilly laughed. "Though I see that our new procedure might have some drawbacks, too. It will be hard to explain to Hermione here that she has to wait another seven years before she can get her own wand and start doing serious magic herself."

Dan Granger, walking beside his wife, shook his head. "Probably not quite as hard as you believe, Lady..., I mean, Lilly. We plan on purchasing quite a few books before we leave. That will keep our Hermione occupied for quite some time, I think. She loves books and at the speed her reading skills are developing, I think she'll be browsing through those magical tomes before the year is out."

"I'm just a bit worried that she'll isolate herself," Emma said. "It's not like she can speak to her friends, what few there are, about all of this." Looking over at Lilly, Emma seemed to consider her next words very carefully. "Please let me know if I'm too forward, but... you have children of your own?"

"I have a son, Harry. He's a few months younger than your daughter."

Emma nodded. "So... again, feel free to tell me no, but... do you think it might be possible to introduce Hermione to your son and maybe some of his friends, too? I think with all this coming at her, it would be great for Hermione to have a few friends her own age to whom she could actually talk about magic."

Lilly thought back to her own childhood. She hadn't had a lot of friends, either, at first because she was quite a bit smarter and doing better in school than all her class mates and later because of her emerging magic. Back then her friendship with Severus had been a precious thing, something that helped her a lot. Those happy memories were tainted now, of course, as the signs of Severus' leanings towards bigotry and darkness had shown even back then (though she only recognized them with the gift of hindsight), but having a magical friend... yes, it had been a great thing for a lonely, bookish girl.

"I think we can arrange something," she said, smiling. It looked like Minerva had successfully roped her into becoming the girl's mentor and possible Magical Guardian after all. Cunning old witch should have been in Slytherin.

* * *

Severus Snape didn't much mind the presence of the Dementors. Were anyone aware of this they would probably think him mad, seeing as Dementors were the scariest creatures in all the magical world. Their very presence chilled the air and made it seem like one could never be happy again. They fed on memories, the worse and more traumatic the better. Prolonged exposure to Dementors was known to leave one insane, chronically depressed, and completely devoid of happiness. That is if they didn't kiss one in order to suck out one's soul first.

Still, Severus Snape didn't really mind their presence. Sitting in his cold, dark cell in Azkaban prison with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company, he almost welcomed the chill when he felt them passing by close to his cell. The reason for that was actually two-fold.

One, Severus Snape firmly believed that he deserved to be here. In all of his miserable life there had been exactly one good thing, one person he loved, one person that made it bearable to get up in the morning and keep breathing. He had lost her friendship through his own stupidity and in trying to get her back he had made it even worse. So yes, Severus Snape deserved to be in Azkaban, he considered it fitting punishment.

And two, when the Dementors passed close by and brought his worst memories to the forefront, he welcomed it. Why? Because as mad as it seemed, his worst memories were also the ones he cherished, if for no other reason than they included the woman he still loved. Lilly, yelling at him for calling her a mudblood, ending their friendship. Lilly, facing him across a battle line as the Order of the Phoenix stood against a Death Eather raid. And Lilly again, her wand blasting him across the corridor as she realized he was to blame for the death of her husband.

His trial had been brief, the result unsurprising. He was a marked Death Eater, after all. There were numerous witnesses to some of the raids he had been part of. And, of course, Lilly herself had given evidence against him, too. The only reason he hadn't gotten a life sentence was that there was no concrete evidence of him actually murdering anyone during the war (he had, but only the one time necessary for his initiation, utterly lacking the stomach for it). So it was 'only' 10 years in Azkaban for him.

He knew very well that the odds of him surviving those 10 years with his sanity intact were not favorable.

He was so deep inside his own thoughts that he didn't notice the opening of his cell door, nor the distinct lack of chill from the Dementors. It was only when a voice rang out, a familiar one, that he noticed her.

"You look like shite, Sev," Lilly Evans… Potter... said, looking at him with a completely expressionless face.

Severus just stared at her, wondering whether he had finally snapped. Could she really be here? Wasn't it far more likely that he was simply hallucinating? A glowing presence walked by her side and he needed a moment to identify it as a corporeal Patronus in the form of a fawn. Yes, Lilly had mastered that difficult spell back in school, hadn't she? Was there a spell she hadn't mastered quickly after becoming aware of it? He couldn't think of one.

"Lilly," he said, his voice scratchy and dry. He didn't use it much these days unless it was for screaming. "What…?"

"…am I doing here?" she finished his question, causing him to nod. It was just about all he was capable of right now.

"Funny thing," she said, walking closer with her Patronus by her side, the silvery animal's glow almost managing to make him feel warm. "For the last few years I've mostly been thinking of you as that stupid bastard who cost me my husband, if I was spending any thought on you at all."

Her words bit deep into the open wound that was his soul, but he deserved no less. Any hope that she might one day forgive him, take him back, if not as a lover than at least as a friend, had died that Halloween.

"Last week, though," she continued, "I was reminded of... better days. For the first time in a long time I remembered our childhood, Sev. How we first met, how you explained to me that the things I could do were magic. Those were some of the best days of my life."

There were tears in his eyes. He hadn't cried since the day he had lost her forever.

She looked at him, those amazing green eyes looking right into his soul. "Because of you my husband is gone, Severus, My son will never know his father. For that I can never, ever forgive you."

Crouching down before him so they were at eye level, she reached out with her hand and briefly touched his cheek. "But to the boy you once were, of whom I hope some small part survives, I just want to say: thank you! Thank you for telling a lonely, confused girl about magic."

Rising, she turned away and left without another word. The cold and darkness returned. Mere moments later a Dementor passed by outside, sensing that brief flicker that had lit inside the soul of Severus Snape. With a viciousness he hadn't shown in three years he locked his Occlumency shields in place, keeping that small ember of light safe inside of him. They wouldn't get it. He would never let them take it.

Severus Snape was no fool. He knew Lilly had meant it when she had said that she would never be able to forgive him. He deserved no forgiveness, so that was okay. But for a moment, a brief moment, the woman he had always loved and would always love had looked at him with kindness in her green, green eyes, affirming that, at one point, there had been goodness inside of him.

That thought alone would suffice to keep him warm for the next seven years.

End (Chapter 4)


	5. Guilty Conscience

**The Mother Who Lived  
Chapter 5: Guilty Conscience**

 _Author's Note: I might be taking some liberties with canon here, not sure, as I don't remember it ever being stated in either books or films at what point Albus Dumbledore and Horace Slughorn respectively became aware of Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort being one and the same (or whether they had, in fact, always known). So in case I am contradicting something here... well, so be it._

* * *

Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was a master of what muggles called networking. He had a keen eye to identify people who had the potential for greatness and more than enough charm and charisma to endear himself to them in subtle, unassuming ways. In short he was the ultimate Slytherin, but his ambition was not to gain political power, but rather to live a life of comfort. And so far he had been very successful in that.

So successful, in fact, that he could easily have retired already with no worries about living the rest of his life comfortably. He had briefly considered retiring, actually, back when the war had ended, but Albus Dumbledore had convinced him to stay on, seeing as a replacement Potions teacher was very hard to come by. The war had taken so many from them and many others had been more concerned with simply staying alive rather than studying the fine art of potion making... well, he would just have to stay on the job until someone suitable came along, it seemed. Or rather, until someone suitable could be convinced to take up the job. He had someone in mind, actually.

If one were to ask him the name of his all-time favorite student and protégé he would probably have produced a long list of the rich, famous, and influential of Wizarding Britain and then charmingly stated that there were so many, he could never pick just one. In his heart, however, there was one former student of his who held a truly special place.

When he learned that she was visiting Hogwarts for some sort of confidential meeting with the Headmaster, he decided to head her off and make her stop for a chat, maybe plant the seeds of an idea in her head about possibly taking over for him a few years down the line. He hadn't really had a chance to talk to her these last few years, not since she had become the famous vanquisher of the Dark Lord, not to mention one of the most influential members of the Wizengamot. Well, he had been at the funeral of Lord James Potter, but hadn't managed to do more than offer some brief words of condolence at the time and the poor dear had been in such a state that he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even remember him having been there.

Horace Slughorn could not have foreseen what a few short words, overheard in the corridor before the Headmaster's office, would do to his comfortable life.

"… still can't be certain that Voldemort is really dead, can we?"

"I wish I could say otherwise, but…"

The words made him freeze in place, all thoughts of meeting his favorite student forgotten upon hearing them. Unbidden his mind flashed back many years to a charming and extremely talented young student called Tom Riddle. A young man that would later become the most terrible Dark Lord Britain had ever seen. Oh, he had hidden his former name, pretended to be a pureblood and championed their cause, but Horace never forgot a face (at least once he went to the trouble of memorizing it in the first place) and had easily recognized his old student. Fear had prevented him from sharing that knowledge, made easier by telling himself that it had no practical use during the war. It wasn't like the Death Eaters would ever have believed that their master was a mere half-blood.

When Lilly Potter had finally destroyed him after years of terror and war, he had breathed a sigh of relief. As sad as he had been to see his once favorite student suffer such a fate, he held no doubt that the world was a better, safer place without him. And while he felt a deep sorrow that his dear Lilly would end up a widow at a mere 21 years of age, he had felt confident that she would find her feet again and go on to even greater things.

And now this.

Albus Dumbledore and Lilly Potter, two of the smartest, most talented magicals ever, doubted that Lord Voldemort was really dead. It never occurred to him that they didn't have ample reason to believe so, he knew them both well enough. If they doubted, then there was room for doubt. And Horace Slughorn knew better than most people that there were ways to cheat death. Terrible, horrifying ways that only a complete and utter madman would dare. And he also knew that the man who had once been Tom Riddle knew of them. How could he not, given that Horace himself had told Tom about them.

Could it really be true? Was it possible that young Tom Riddle had, in fact, managed to create a Horcrux? Or even several, as he had apparently intended? Horace's mind rebelled against the thought, but could not dismiss it out of hand. It would explain quite a few things, such as Voldemort's changed appearance as the war went on, his ongoing descent into darkness and insanity, even his name. Flight from Death.

Blinking, Horace became aware of this surroundings again. How long had he stood in the corridor, just staring into space? Dumbledore and Lilly were long gone. No matter, he couldn't have faced them now anyway. For all that he was a master Occlumist, Horace doubted he could have kept a novice out of his mind at this moment.

He needed a drink. And then... then he would have to think, long and hard. And he would have to find out whether he had really made it possible for the Dark Lord Voldemort to cheat death and possibly return to plague Wizarding Britain anew.

Horace Slughorn's conscience didn't come into play very often. But in this very special case, it would not let him do anything less. Not when his dear Lilly could end up suffering for his mistake from all these years ago.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leaned back in his chair, feeling old. It was pretty common feeling these days, seeing as he was, indeed, quite old, but today he felt the weight of every single year.

A casual observer would wonder what reason he had to feel down. The war was over, the wounds it had caused were healing. Oh, it would take quite a few more years until Wizarding Britain fully recovered, a community as relatively small as theirs could not make up the numbers lost overnight, but they were on the way. And thanks in part to the woman who had left his office just minutes ago Wizarding Britain was in better shape than ever, as the forces who would have it firmly rooted in the Middle Ages were weaker than they had ever been in living memory. The future seemed bright.

Yet there remained clouds of uncertainty and Albus Dumbledore was not the kind of man to simply stick his head in the sand and hope for the best. If anyone were to know about his doubts regarding the death of Lord Voldemort, they would probably call him a foolish old man. So what if there wasn't a body? Clearly the most obvious answer was that the properties of the Killing Curse had somehow been changed by being reflected off the life shield around Harry Potter. It was entirely possible, given that there was no other recorded case of a Killing Curse ever being reflected. And seeing as how his life force had evidently left his body, given that it had revived Lilly Potter, how could he possibly still be alive?

All good arguments, Dumbledore conceded in his internal debate, but insufficient to completely banish his doubts. Too many times in the past he had been complacent when he should have been proactive, had waited instead of acting. For years he had done nothing while his former friend Gellert Grindelwald had run rampant across all of Europe. For years he had watched a brilliant young student called Tom Riddle become ever more powerful, disregarding his own doubts, telling himself that the young man would conquer his inner demons if but given the chance to shine.

It was probably rather arrogant on his part that he considered himself partially responsible for the emergence of both Dark Lords who had done such damage to the magical world in the 20th century, but that didn't change the fact that he had known both of them personally, had known them before they became the monsters who would destroy so many lives. The benefits of hindsight, certainly, but there were so many nights when he laid awake and wondered how things might have progressed if only he had done something sooner.

If only… the English language truly held no sadder words.

Well, there would not be a third time, Albus Dumbledore promised himself. This time he would not be complacent. He would do whatever it took to lay the doubts to rest. If there was even the slightest chance Lord Voldemort still lived and might return, he would work tirelessly until he knew for certain. He owed it to the countless innocents he had failed to save. He owed it to the children of today, who deserved better than to live through yet another war. And, more than anything, he owed it to the likes of Lilly Potter, who had lost so much yet was still doing her best to make a better world. For all of them, he could do no less.

His conscience would never allow it.

* * *

Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and its sole remaining male heir, had never really thought of 12 Grimauld Place as home. Sure, he had grown up here, but he had never really fit in with his family and had left it all behind, never looking back, the moment an opportunity presented itself. He had never really regretted the choice of running away to stay with the Potters, but that did not mean he didn't have regrets. In fact he had tons of them.

Looking at the infamous Black family tapestry, he couldn't help but shake his head in amazement at the stupidity and short-sightedness of so many of the people he was related to by blood. At some point Lilly had tried to explain to him the muggle concept of "inbreeding" and the problems it caused. He hadn't really understood it, to be honest, but even without knowing anything about genetics and muggle science he was well aware that marriage between cousins (or even closer relatives for that matter) was a bad idea. It was not really surprising that the Blacks, with their fanatic devotion to blood purity, had suffered increasing problems with infertility and short life expectancy, not to mention a growing number of squib births.

Numerous black, scorched spots adorned the Black family tree depicted on the tapestry before him, family members whose names and faces had been blasted off for various reasons. Squibs, people who married blood traitors, half-bloods or muggleborns, or simply displeased whoever was the current Head of House. Sirius' own name was no longer found here, neither was that of his cousin Andromeda.

One name that remained was that of his brother, Regulus, and it was a stark reminder of what Sirius considered one of the two major failures of his life. Regulus, meaning Little King. The younger Black brother. Slighter, shorter, less impressive, less charming, less flamboyant. A long time he had stood in Sirius' shadow. It was only when Sirius had the audacity to be sorted into Griffindor and fell out of favor with his parents that Regulus finally had a chance to emerge. And emerge he did, by being the perfect Black son, doing whatever it took to please his parents.

Sirius sighed. He knew – or at least liked to believe – that Regulus had not been that different from him. He hadn't really believed in all that blood purity drivel, not deep down. He had never wanted to slaughter muggles, exterminate muggleborn, and put half-bloods in their place. He had simply been the obedient son, doing what his parents wanted, never quite having the strength to become his own man instead.

It hadn't really been much of a surprise when Sirius had learned that Regulus had joined the Death Eaters. If fact he had fully expected it. His parents hadn't been among Voldemort's marked followers, but they had certainly agreed with him and cheered him on. And Regulus, weak-willed boy that he was, had naturally followed in their wake. Sirius didn't know how exactly Regulus had died, probably on some ill-fated raid or simply because he failed his so-called Lord in some manner. He only knew for sure that his brother was dead. The skull appearing next to his name on the tapestry confirmed it.

Sirius couldn't help but wonder if maybe things would have gone differently had he been there to support his younger brother. Maybe Regulus would have found the courage to speak out against his parents, refuse the path of darkness, and become his own man if his big brother had given him just a little nudge.

"I'm sorry, Regulus," he said, fingers touching the skull-face on the tapestry. "I wish I had been there to help you."

Sirius was unaware that he had an observer and even if he had, he probably wouldn't have cared, seeing as it was only Kreacher. While Sirius was definitely a far more progressive wizard than any other member of the Black family save perhaps Andromeda, he had never really paid much attention to House Elves. Like most wizards, he just took their presence for granted. Kreacher was a bit of a special case, mostly because the elf had never hidden his disdain for him (picked up from his mother, no doubt), but he still rated barely above furniture in Sirius' mind.

Kreacher was not furniture, though, and he watched as Sirius mourned his brother. And as he watched, an idea took root in Kreacher's mind. For unknown to anyone but him, Master Regulus had not died for Voldemort, but rather in the process of opposing him. Regulus had discovered a secret the Dark Lord hadn't wanted anyone to know. Kreacher didn't know exactly what it was, but he had been given one final command by Master Regulus before his death. A command he had – unfortunately – been unable to follow so far.

The evil locket remained in his room, hidden from all eyes. Kreacher had tried every bit of magic he knew, but nothing would harm it. It ate away at his mind and sanity, because failing to follow the command of his master was simply unthinkable for a good House Elf. Given enough time, his failure – combined with the foul influence radiating from the evil locket - would probably have driven him mad.

As things stood, though, Kreacher was still sane enough. And as much as he despised his new Lord and master, the blood traitor Sirius Black, this dislike came at a distant second to his need to fulfill Master Regulus' final wish. Until now he had never even considered the notion that Sirius might in any way be inclined to help him, for the two brothers had parted under bad terms and neither had shown any desire for reconciliation. But now, hearing Sirius mourn...

"Master Sirius," Kreacher said, entering the room.

Startled, Sirius looked up. "Kreacher? What is it? What do you want?"

The elf hesitated a moment, wringing his hands, then decided. "It's not about what Kreacher wants, Master Sirius. It's... it's about what Master Regulus wanted."

Sirius eyes widened in surprise.

THE END (Chapter 5)


	6. For Loved Ones Lost

**The Mother Who Lived**  
 **Chapter 6: For Loved Ones Lost**

Sirius Black was reasonably sure that he had had stranger weeks in his life. After all, he had grown up in the Black family, he had been a member of the Marauders in Hogwarts, and he had fought in the Blood War as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. So odds were quite good that he had, in fact, had stranger weeks than this one. At some point. Probably. He just couldn't seem to think of any right now.

It had started with Kreacher and the strange locket Regulus had commanded him to destroy. Poor Regulus, his little brother, who apparently had indeed seen the light in the end and sacrificed his own life to strike a blow against the Dark Lord. While incredibly saddened, it also filled him with pride. His little brother had become his own man at last.

Sirius had been shocked, both by Kreacher treating him somewhat respectfully for the first time in his life and at hearing the story the elf had told about the locket and how he had helped Regulus retrieve it from a cursed cave guarded by Inferi. Sirius had promised Kreacher, had in fact given him his word as Lord Black, that he would help him fulfil Regulus' last command. The wretched little elf had actually cried at that, something Sirius still had a hard time believing even though he had seen it with his own eyes.

Anyway, Sirius had tried his best to find out what the locket actually was, but had come up empty. Some kind of cursed object, certainly, as it emitted an almost tangible air of menace if one paid attention, but in every other way it appeared to be perfectly mundane. Oh, and quite impervious to harm, too, as Kreacher had apparently tried everything in his power to destroy it to no avail. Sirius knew how powerful House Elf magic was.

Faced with a mystery he couldn't solve, Sirius had done what he always did in such cases: he went to his friends, all of whom he considered to be much smarter than himself. Remus had been the first due to the fact that he worked for Sirius and was thus close at hand, but his old buddy had quickly conceded defeat. He was extremely knowledgeable when it came to dark creatures, yes, but cursed objects? Not really his speciality.

So the two of them took Kreacher and the locket and went to see Lilly at Potter Manor, only to learn that she was off in Scotland to visit Hogwarts. Well, given that Albus Dumbledore would have been next on Sirius' list if Lilly had been unable to help, that was just killing two birds with one stone. So off to Hogwarts they went.

* * *

Lilly Potter had made numerous visits to Hogwarts over the last few years, most of them to confer with Albus Dumbledore about their ongoing investigation into Voldemort's supposed death and Harry's scar. Today, though, she was here to meet a different man. Horace Slughorn, her old teacher and mentor, had invited her for tea, telling her that there was something extremely important he had to tell her.

Her curiosity piqued, Lilly rearranged her busy schedule and took the day off to visit Slughorn in his offices. They still looked very much like she remembered them, as he had always held the meetings of his so-called Slug Club here. Quite a few people had been scandalized that Slughorn had invited a Muggleborn to these meetings of the powerful, influential, and rising stars, but the old Slytherin had never subscribed to that whole blood purity thing. He had a thing for collecting people and a keen eye to pick out those destined for bigger things.

Lilly almost chuckled, wondering how many of the same people who had belittled her back then would now brag about having been in the same year or class as her. How quickly the world could change.

"Lilly, my dear, it is so good to see you," Professor Slughorn said, coming out to meet her.

Lilly was a bit taken aback upon seeing him. Sure, it had been a few years since their last meeting (she dimly remembered seeing him at James' funeral), but Slughorn seemed to have aged decades since then. He looked extremely tired and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"It is good to see you, too, Professor," she replied, shaking his hand. "I... I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you look..."

"Dreadful," he offered, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, I fear that is an apt description, my dear. But please, sit."

She sat down where he gestured and a minute later a steaming cup of tea stood before her, her former potions professor sitting down on the other side of the table. He seemed nervous, distraught, and there was none of that jolly energy he usually seemed to emit.

"I will get straight to the point, my dear," he began, "When you were last here a few weeks ago, I wanted to meet with you. As a matter of fact I was hoping to maybe convince you to take over the position of Potions Professor here at Hogwarts in a few years, allowing me to retire, but..."

"Me, Potions Professor?" Lilly asked. "Professor Slughorn, I feel honored, but I don't think I..."

"Please allow me to continue, Lilly," he interrupted her. "As I said, that was my intention, but on the way I overheard you and the Headmaster as you left his office. You said... you said you had doubts that... that You-Know-Who was actually dead."

Lilly froze, her face turning blank. She and Albus had worked diligently to keep their investigation a secret from everyone. To think that they had been so careless...

"Do not worry yourself, my dear," Slughorn continued, "I have not shared your suspicions with another soul and will never do so. I just... well, I fear there is something I must tell you. Something that might well confirm your suspicions. Something I have long tried my best to forget." He looked down, unable to meet her eyes, looking even older than he had done a second ago. "Something I am deeply ashamed of."

Frowning, she reached out and put her hand on his. "Professor, whatever it is you believe you have done, surely it can't be that terrible."

"Oh, but I fear it is, my dear," he replied, looking at her again. "For you see, long before he became known by his nom de guerre, there was a boy called Tom Riddle and I was his teacher."

Lilly frowned, recognizing the name. Dumbledore had told her about Voldemort' previous identity and that he had been a student here at Hogwarts. That Slughorn would have known him as well shouldn't have come as a big surprise, she had simply never thought about it.

"He was a brilliant boy, Lilly. Troubled, yes, but easily the most promising student I had seen in a long time. I was sure he would go places, he was so talented, and... and I overlooked quite a few things. He had an interest in dark magic, which I should have discouraged, but instead..."

"Professor," Lilly told him, "you really have nothing to feel guilty about. The Headmaster has told me about Tom Riddle, all the teachers here at Hogwarts at the time thought he was brilliant and charming. No one could have known what he would become. You couldn't have..."

"I fear there is more, Lilly. Something you must know. One evening, after a meeting of the Slug Club, Tom Riddle and I met in private and he... he inquired about a truly abominable, horrendous work of dark magic. And I... to my shame, I... I answered his questions, believing them to be merely academic. I told him about... about Horcruxes."

Lilly had never heard the term before. "What is a Horcrux, Professor?"

Slughorn sighed deeply, obviously feeling tremendous shame. "It's an abomination, that's what it is, originally created by Herpo the Foul. Using a ritualistic act of murder one... tears off a piece of one's very soul and stores it in a foreign object. The Horcrux serves as an anchor to the mortal world. As long as it exists... the one who has created it cannot truly die."

Lilly's eyes widened, her mind racing as she considered the implications of what Slughorn was telling her. For years she had feared that Voldemort might still be alive, that he had found some way to cheat death, just as she had. And now, it seemed, that he had, in fact, known of one such way since his school days.

"Do you... do you know if he went through with it?" Lilly asked.

Slughorn shook his head. "I don't know. When he... when he asked me whether it was possible to create more than one Horcrux, to actually tear one's soul into seven separate pieces, it dawned on me how dangerous our conversation had become. Creating one Horcrux is bad enough, but even thinking about tearing one's own soul sevenfold... but I fear he might well have done it, Lilly. As the war progressed the once charming, charismatic young man I had known changed, both physically and, I think, mentally as well. A soul isn't meant to be torn apart. What it did to his mind and sanity I cannot even imagine."

He looked at her. "When I overheard you and Albus... I had almost managed to forget that night. I had believed that he had indeed died that Halloween, that you had destroyed him for good. I was so relieved, I... but I couldn't quite forget it. And hearing that two of the smartest magicals I had ever met were doubting You-Know-Who's death... I could not keep my secret any longer, not if it meant I might be enabling the Dark Lord to return. I... I simply hope that you will find it in your heart not to hate a foolish old man for the mistakes he made."

Lilly struggled to process everything she had learned. It had just become a hundred times more likely that Voldemort was still alive. Her old professor, one of her favorite professors in fact, had apparently helped him learn about a twisted form of immortality. Slughorn was looking at her as if he was expecting her to cast the Cruciatus at him at any moment.

"I... Professor, this was not what I expected from this meeting. So... yes, Albus and I do indeed suspect that Voldemort might not be dead, but so far all we have to base our suspicions on is the lack of a dead body. So there is really no telling if..."

Lilly was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. A moment later it opened, as the party outside let itself in. Sirius, Remus, and a House Elf – Kreacher, she remembered his name – entered, looking just a tiny bit ragged.

"Sorry for just barging in," Sirius said, "but we were afraid we were gonna miss you again and there is something really important we need to talk to you about."

Lilly was about to reprimand Sirius for his rude entry, asking what could possibly be so important, when she caught sight of Slughorn's face. If he had been pale and tired-looking before, he now looked positively ashen. He was looking at Sirius. No, not at Sirius, at Kreacher. Or rather, something Kreacher was carrying before him in some sort of glass box. A locket? What was so special about a golden locket?

"Oh dear Merlin," Slughorn whispered.

* * *

"There is no doubt anymore then, is there?" Lilly asked, tired and angry. Not at any specific person, but rather at the world in general. Angry for allowing something like this to happen.

"I fear not," Albus Dumbledore said, sounding just as tired. "Horace's initial impression of the locket was, in fact, quite correct. It is positively drenched in soul magic of the darkest kind. I have never seen an actual Horcrux before, so I can't compare it, but from everything I have read and what Horace told me..."

Sirius looked at the locket where it was placed on Dumbledore's desk. "So there is actually a tiny little piece of Voldemort's soul inside this thing? I can't even... what kind of twisted mind...?"

"Twisted is absolutely the right word, my friend," Albus said. "The creation of a Horcrux literally entails ripping one's inner self apart. An exceptionally strong and focused mind might survive the creation of a single Horcrux intact. But if Voldemort has actually done what he talked to Horace about all these years ago and torn his soul into no less than seven pieces…"

He looked at Lilly and she nodded, it was time to tell their friends about some previously neglected details.

"On the night Voldemort was destroyed," she told them, "he fell victim to his own Killing Curse reflected back at him. But instead of a dead body dropping to the floor, there was nothing left except an empty set of robes and his wand. It was this that made Albus and I doubt his final fate."

"The creation of multiple Horcruxes," Dumbledore continued, "would certainly have warped and twisted his mind and body, which might explain why the Killing Curse had such a strong effect on him."

"So he is still out there," Remus concluded. "Bodiless, but still alive, anchored to this world by this... thing here, plus however many others he might have created."

"Master Regulus knew," Kreacher added, looking despondent. "He told Kreacher that destroying the evil locket would make the Dark Lord vulnerable. Kreacher didn't understand before."

Sirius knelt down beside the House Elf. "Kreacher, this is very important. No one except the people present here today must find out what we learned. You must not tell anyone else, understood?"

Kreacher nodded. "Lord Black will destroy evil locket and others like it?"

"Yes, Kreacher. We will see Regulus' work finished, I swear to you."

He stood back up, looking at the other three people present. "So up to five more of these things, right?"

"And no idea where the others are hidden or even what they look like," Remus nodded.

"Plus we have yet to find a way to destroy even the one we have," Lilly reminded them.

"We must be very careful in our search," Albus added. "If the Dark Lord's remaining followers were to learn that he yet lives, it could very well galvanize them back into action or even make them search for him, speeding up his return."

Lilly looked around. Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and even little Kreacher all met her gaze evenly.

"We will stop him," she said decisively. "My husband, Sirius' brother, and countless others have sacrificed their lives to stop him and I refuse to see this madman return to wreak havoc once again. We will find these abominations and destroy them! We will send Tom Riddle, Voldemort, or whatever other name he might go by now, screaming into the Pit!"

The three men and one elf nodded. They would do it. Whatever it took, however long it took. Voldemort would not be allowed to return again on their watch.

END (Chapter 6)


	7. Family

The Mother Who Lived  
Chapter 7: Family

Lilly Potter felt an odd combination of happiness and deep sadness as she watched the group of children playing together in the garden of Potter Manor. Happiness because today was her son's fifth birthday and he was as happy and carefree as a five-year-old ought to be, surrounded by his friends, just enjoying life. He was unburdened by the responsibilities heaped upon adults, uncaring about the evils that lurked in the shadows. She loved seeing him like this, just happy. It made her happy, too.

There was also sadness, of course. Because as she watched this gaggle of five-year-olds playing, she was all too aware that there were far too few corresponding adults in the room. Almost four years since she had lost James, but she still felt his absence. Neville was even worse off than Harry, seeing as neither Alice nor Frank were here. Augusta was doing her best, Lilly knew, but she carried the burden of her own grief wherever she went. Draco was missing a father as well (though she doubted scum like the elder Malfoy would ever been deserving of the name), the closest thing he had was his uncle Sirius (technically his second degree cousin, yes, but he called him uncle). The only intact family present was the Grangers, who were thankfully untouched by the war that had pretty much cut the wizarding population of Britain in half.

"Those look like some pretty heavy thoughts," Sirius said, walking up next to her and putting an arm around her.

The two of them had just kind of happened. They had spent a lot of time together, even more now that they were working in secret to uncover a bunch of cursed magical objects in order to prevent Voldemort's resurrection. She trusted him unreservedly, he was her best friend. He had never pushed, but had also started being more and more open with his feelings (not that he had ever been able to hide them well).

She hadn't lied to Alice back when she had told her friend that she wasn't ready yet. She hadn't been ready for a long time. But then, one day, without really noticing, that had changed. She couldn't really say what the date had been, it had passed her by. But one day sometime after that Sirius had stayed the night and they had fallen asleep together on the couch, just holding each other. Things had progressed from there in a way that felt entirely natural without any large declarations or outrageous gestures. No one had really been surprised. In fact Moony had been the one to win the betting pool that had been going on behind their backs.

"Just thinking of absent friends," she replied, leaning into Sirius. "People who should be here."

"Frank and Alice would be really proud of the job Augusta is doing with Neville," he said. "And unsurprisingly Harry is a really great kid." Looking at the boy in question playing some kind of wizarding game against Hermione (and losing badly as usual), he added "and what do you know, a Potter boy snuggling up with a scarily smart muggleborn girl. Does that by any chance remind you of something, Lils?"

She playfully swatted at his arm, but smiled. It used to be that any reminder of James brought her to tears, but over the years the pain had started to fade. She would never stop loving him, would never forget him, but he was gone. She remembered the good times now, not the painful ones, and was ready to move on with the rest of her life. Slowly.

"Speaking of doing a good job, you've really come through for Draco," she said, looking at the blonde boy. He was the spitting image of his father at that age, she knew, but the happy and carefree smile on his face was not something she could ever imagine seeing on Lucius.

"Narcissa has done most of the heavy lifting there," Sirius said. "It took her some time to start functioning without a man telling her what to do, but she is doing a great job now."

Lilly nodded. Narcissa Malfoy had been the epitome of what wizarding society considered a proper pureblood wife. Meek, obedient, only concerned with doing whatever needed doing for her family. Had Lucius remained free, Lilly had no doubt she would have been a mere shadow at his side and poor little Draco would probably have turned into a carbon copy of his father. As things stood, though, Narcissa had been forced to stand on her own, both as a parent and as head of House Malfoy, diminished as it might be. It had done wonders for the woman. She and Lilly would probably never be friends, but they could be civil with each other for extended periods of time. A far cry from the woman who had repeatedly called her a mudblood in the past.

The fireplace in the room chimed and in a burst of green flames the face of Albus Dumbledore appeared.

"Albus, this is a surprise," Lilly said, walking over.

"I am very sorry for disturbing your family time, Lilly, but I was wondering whether you and Sirius could make time to come over to my office. It concerns our runes project."

Lilly nodded, nothing showing on her face. As far as anyone else knew she and Albus were working on a project together to create a new kind of runic array that would protect people's homes from attack. Rumor went that Lilly had used runes to defeat and destroy Lord Voldemort, after all, so it was easy to believe. It was even true, to an extent, as Lilly and Albus were, in fact, working to adapt the life shield ritual Lilly had created into a useful form that could protect someone without someone else having to die for it.

When Albus called about the runes project, though, he was actually referring to their ongoing hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"We'll be right over," Lilly said.

* * *

"I have a new lead on a possible Horcrux," Albus said, coming straight to the point. "As you know I've been backtracking Tom Riddle's history and, given that a Horcrux needs an act of murder to be created, looking for any suspicious deaths in his wake. I believe I have found one that qualifies."

Dumbledore went on to show them several pensieve memories he had gathered. They had already learned that Tom Riddle was the son of a muggle father, Tom Riddle Senior, but the identity of his mother had been a bit tougher to determine. By now they knew she had been Merope Gaunt. The Gaunts had claimed to be descended from Salazaar Slytherin himself, but their House had long fallen to ruin and their line was now extinct.

They watched the memories of Morfin Gaunt, Merope's younger brother and sole surviving member of the family at the time, be arrested for the murder of three muggles, said muggles being Tom Riddle Senior and his parents, who had lived nearby. Albus directed their attention to the fact that Morfin had, in earlier memories, always worn the Gaunt family ring, the sole remaining heirloom of their House. During his arrest, however, the ring had not been found. Morfin had, in fact, ranted quite a bit about his precious ring being lost.

"So out of the blue Morfin Gaunt decides to kill the paternal family of his nephew Tom," Lilly summarized, "and somehow loses the family ring, all at the same time as Tom was out of Hogwarts for the summer."

Albus nodded. "Sadly Morfin Gaunt died in Azkaban only a short time later. The case seemed very straight-forward, so no one thought to check his memories for magical modifications."

"You think Tom killed his father and paternal grandparents," Sirius said, "and used their deaths to turn the Gaunt ring into a Horcrux."

"Quite so, yes. The locket was Salazaar Slytherin's, of whom Tom is a distant descendant. It would make sense that he would use other family heirlooms. From what I have been able to gather, Tom was obsessed with emphasizing the magical side of his heritage and equally obsessed with destroying all traces of his muggle side. Using the ring and killing the Riddle's would accomplish both in one swoop."

Sirius nodded, agreeing. "It would make sense. Having grown up in a muggle orphanage would only have strengthened his hatred for all things muggle. He would try and sever all ties with it."

The discussion went on for some time and they ended up making a plan to investigate the sole remaining Gaunt property, a decrepit old house, and the abandoned Riddle manor for traces of the Gaunt ring. At the same time, though, Lilly couldn't stop a second train of thoughts from going through her head.

* * *

It had been a successful day overall. Investigating the Gaunt home (which barely deserved the name, truth be told) had in fact yielded them their second Horcrux. The Gaunt ring had been hidden under the floorboards, protected by numerous defenses, as well as a lethal curse on the ring itself. Thankfully their combined prowess had been enough to stop any of them from succumbing to the compulsion on the ring, because putting it on would have been a death sentence. So now they had two of the six anchors that tied Voldemort to this world. Just four more to go.

Lilly had pleaded exhaustion, leaving Sirius and Albus to deal with the ring. But instead of going back to Potter Manor, she had instead headed out to a small house on Privet Drive in Little Whinging. For years the idea of visiting here had never even entered her thoughts, but deliberating about Tom Riddle, who had done his best to completely rid himself of any and all connections with the muggle world, had gotten her thinking about her own reasons for divorcing herself from her past.

Oh, she wasn't worried that she would somehow repeat the history of Riddle or some such nonsense. Mostly she was thinking about Harry and, to a lesser degree, of herself. There was nothing left of the Potter side of her family. Her husband was gone, his parents having passed on before him. But her family was still there in the form of her sister. A sister with a husband and a son. And while her last encounter with her sister had been anything but amicable, didn't she owe it to Harry and herself to at least try and reconnect with the family they had remaining?

Gathering her Griffindor courage, she walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

The woman who opened the door could not have looked more different than Lilly if she had tried (and odds were she had). A stranger would have been hard-pressed to recognize the two of them as sisters. Everything from the way they looked, dressed, stood, and acted was completely different. Petunia Dursley nee Evans stilled in shock as she recognized the visitor on her doorstep, her eyes widening.

"Lilly?" she whispered, as if unable to believe it.

"Hi sis," she replied, forcing a smile on her lips. "Long time no see."

END (Chapter 7)


End file.
